


even the longest drought will end in rain

by dytabytes



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/F, Generic Inquisitor - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-08
Updated: 2015-09-08
Packaged: 2018-04-19 18:36:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4756811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dytabytes/pseuds/dytabytes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vivienne never says what she means, and Cassandra is too blunt for her own good. Eventually, they make it work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	even the longest drought will end in rain

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yue_ix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yue_ix/gifts).



> The idea to write this pairing was inspired by a tired, post-Otakuthon bus ride conversation with Yue. Significant amounts of blame for this fic's existence lie directly on her shoulders. I'm sorry it's not angel/devil!AU, but hopefully this is also good XD

"I appreciate that you wish to support the Inquisition, my Lady, but are you sure you wish to accompany the Inquisitor into the field?"

Perhaps there is a better way of asking this question than knocking on the Madame de Fer's door the morning of the expedition, but Cassandra has no taste for the doublespeak of the courts. Let Lady Montilyet handle soft words and diplomacy. Cassandra has always confronted her problems head on, in battle and out.

"I am absolutely certain, darling. And if we are to be companions, you really must call me Vivienne." The Iron Lady smiles with the easy condescension of a skilled player of the Game, and Cassandra clenches her teeth against the frustration that runs down her spine.

"The Storm Coast is nothing like the courts of Orlais, Lady Vivienne." Cassandra folds her arms over her chest, drawing her shoulders up and back. "We will be moving through enemy territory, unable to turn back if the conditions prove to be …” She pauses, trying to find the right word, “uncomfortable for you."

A cold light flashes in the Lady's eyes as she responds to Cassandra, smile now brittle with ice. "And how do you think conditions may become _uncomfortable_ for me where they would not be so for you, Seeker Pentaghast?"

Ugh, court posturing. So much for trying to be gentle.

"The Storm Coast is filthy and full of mud," Cassandra says, "and your outfits are white."

The warm sense of satisfaction she feels when Lady Vivienne's eyes go wide is swiftly shattered when the mage begins to laugh.

"Oh! You are so much more than I had expected, Lady Seeker."

Cassandra sniffs, attempting to assuage her wounded dignity. "I am exactly what I say I am, and always have been."

"And yet so few are." The Lady smiles warmly and has the gall to pat Cassandra on the shoulder like a small child. "But never mind that. I will take your advice into consideration when I pack. A lady always dresses for the occasion, even if that occasion is, as you say, filthy and full of mud."

True to her word, she spends the entirety of their trip in shades of olive drab and grey, tooled and embroidered to Orlesian standards of finery, while also somehow remaining acceptable for mudding around in the swamp. Cassandra isn’t sure whether to feel triumph or annoyance. She does what comes naturally and focusses on beating in the heads of bandits instead.

 

* * *

 

Giants are trouble that would better be handled by avoidance rather than engagement. Cassandra decides this the moment that one hooks her shield and flings, sending her flying. Even after the rest of the party has felled the thing, she maintains this belief.

"A potion, if you will!", she shouts as she pulls herself into a sitting position with her good arm, grimacing at the oasis water that has seeped through her tabard. To her surprise, Vivienne waves the Inquisitor off.

"I can handle this. Magic is much more efficient than poultices when it comes to healing dislocations."

She kneels at Cassandra's side before she can protest, cool green glowing around her fingers. The position means that her mouth is right by Cassandra's ear, close enough that she shivers when Vivienne says, "While I applaud the enthusiasm with which you serve, I would appreciate it if you could exercise more caution to temper your fervour in battle."

She lifts her palm from Cassandra’s shoulder and looks her in the eye. “I’ll have you know that healing spells are complex even when the Veil has not been torn open in a dozen different places.”

“I take the blows which the rest of you cannot. If I dodge, someone more important will be injured in my stead.” Cassandra shrugs, then stifles a wince, because even with healing, her shoulder is going to take a while to settle. “If you need to spend your energy elsewhere, though, you should. I have survived worse.”

“Stay still, darling. I can’t treat you properly if you won’t let me.” Vivienne tsks and runs her fingers over Cassandra’s skin once more, a gesture that would seem comforting if it didn't come from a lady known for her lack of sentiment. “And if you weren’t important, I wouldn’t be healing you. It’s not a question of prioritization, but one of … hm. Concern.”

Cassandra shakes Vivienne off, annoyed.

“You should save your concern for the Inquisitor. Without me, the Inquisition stumbles, but continues moving. Without them we are lost.”

“Without you, darling, we lose our way as well. The Inquisitor might be the figurehead who has been chosen to lead, but they’re the face of this effort, not the passion which started it.” Vivienne touches her chest, thoughtful. “Our heart, for lack of a better word, is you.”

“No.” Cassandra clenches her fists, stands even though she’s sure that Vivienne isn’t quite done with her. “The one who called for the Inquisition was Divine Justinia. All I am is her Hand, carrying out her will as best I can in the wake of my failure to protect her.”

She bows to Vivienne, a short, staccato of a movement. “Thank you for your assistance with my injuries.”

The Lady looks up at her from where she is seated, one eyebrow raised to indicate that she knows that Cassandra is running away, and that she is allowing it only because … well Cassandra doesn’t know why. Perhaps some speck of fondness. Or perhaps because they don't know if that giant had kin.

Either way, there is a breath, then Vivienne sighs deeply, shaking her head even as she smiles and stands to clasp Cassandra’s hand briefly in her own.

“Any time, my dear."

It seems to Cassandra that there might be some weight to that sentence, but she is quickly distracted by Inquisitor's shouting. Something about a secret tunnel? Cassandra sighs, then squares her shoulders. It's ridiculous how much trouble they get themselves into, but her duty is clear.

 

* * *

 

 

They have survived the treachery of the Winter Palace, but Cassandra is fuming. The moment the speeches about maintaining the glory of Orlais have ended, she hisses, "May I have a word, my lady?", and takes Vivienne's wrist, barely restraining herself from dragging the mage across the room in her haste to find somewhere private.

"Whatever is so important that you had to cause a scene like that, Cassandra?" Vivienne asks with a smile on her lips, leaning back against the balcony rail as if she doesn't know why Cassandra is flushed with rage.

"I cannot believe that you had the temerity to undermine my role as a warrior as you did back in the basements!" Cassandra isn't yelling, but it's a close thing. "Jumping in front of rogues like that... Have you lost touch with reality?"

Vivienne's grin falls away.

"Ah. So we're to have a conversation about _that_ , then. Pity." She glares down her nose at Cassandra, meeting fire with ice. "You are wearing a formal uniform and, thus, are not in heavy plate here, yes? And as such, you realize that you are just as vulnerable to blades as anyone else?"

"And you realize that you are the only one here with healing abilities?" Cassandra pushes her hands through her hair. "If I were injured, I could trust you to heal me, but if you are stabbed or, Maker forbid, poisoned, all I could do would be to tear bandages and hope!"

Vivienne is startled, but she regains her footing swiftly, arms planted at her hips.

"It is true that I can heal if I wish to, but my abilities as Knight-Enchanter also mean that I have an added measure of protection." She flickers blue, a demonstration of her power. "My barriers are always up."

Cassandra catches Vivienne by the wrist, pulls her off-balance into a parody of a dip with her hand at her throat just to demonstrate. "Not. Always."

Point made, she stands, lets Vivienne back on her feet. "If I can catch you off guard like that, so could anyone else.” She looks away, over the balcony towards the horizon. “To lose you would be unacceptable."

Vivienne's nostrils flare as she shakes herself free from Cassandra.

"You, Lady Seeker, are the densest, most infuriating person I have had to interact with in ages. If I cared for you any less, you would be missing a hand for that, if not your head."

She sniffs and folds her arms across her chest, the very picture of an affronted lady of the court.

"If you insist on not getting the point, I see no purpose in continued conversation. Return to the ball when you feel ready, but do not think that my responses to _your_ actions are anything close to the norm."

With that, she turns on her heel and returns to the ball, leaving Cassandra to stand on the balcony, speechless.

 

* * *

 

 

They are travelling home through the Hinterlands when Cassandra gets the nerve to fall in step beside the Inquisitor.

"May I speak with you?"

"Of course." The Inquisitor cocks their head, concern creasing their brow. "Do you sense a threat approaching?"

"No!" Cassandra colours and mutters, "No, this is a question of a personal nature, not related to tactics."

"Oh...ah. Hm." The Inquisitor says. Their grip on their weapon relaxes, but their expression stays concerned. "What did you want to ask about?"

"I. Hmm. Has the Lady Vivienne ever..." Cassandra fiddles with the pommel of her sword, staring at the ground as she asks, "Have you ever heard Lady Vivienne say that she ... _cares_ for someone else before?"

The Inquisitor seems like they are about to respond, but before they can speak, another voice cuts in.

"Now why would you ask a question like that, Seeker?", Varric asks.

He must have been eavesdropping. Cassandra doesn't have any idea why she ever respected him or his work. He is obviously faulty in the head and a terrible person.

"That is none of your business, you meddling dwarf."

He holds his hands out, shrugging.

"I mean, maybe it's not. But it sounds like it might be."

The look on his face is infuriating, especially when the Inquisitor offers, "I guess there's no one who would know more about caring than the author of Swords and Shields." They pause, then wink and add, “Who is also a friend of the _infamously_ rakish Hawke, to boot.”

Varric bats at the Inquisitor’s side in playful mock offense as Cassandra considers her options.

The thing is, she would dearly like to drop this conversation right now, drop it and run for the hills with her hands over her ears.

But she has only ever heard Vivienne use the word "care" in relation to causes, never to people.

And Varric's novels were notably well written.

"Fine. What are your insights on this situation?" Cassandra crosses her arms, daring him to tease her.

"The way I see it, our Iron Lady does everything she can to _not_ care about anyone. So if she did admit to caring, I'd say it's probably a serious case of the feelings." Varric aims a knowing grin up at Cassandra as he shrugs. "But then again, I'm just a meddling dwarf. What do I know?"

"Presumably nothing at all." Cassandra sniffs, trying to hide the flush rising in her cheeks with pure willpower, "but I will take your opinion into account."

She is sure that she is thoroughly red, despite her efforts, but Varric must be having an off day, because he responds with only a "Suuuure." and a knowing grin before falling back to trade friendly insults with The Iron Bull.

Cassandra and the Inquisitor walk in silence for a moment, before they offer, "I can't really say more than Varric did, except that if Vivienne did say something like that... Well. Even if she's as mad as she was when we left Orlais, I bet she'll forgive y-, hah. Whoever she was mad at." The Inquisitor laughs awkwardly. "She seems cold, but there's a lot of warmth in her if you earn her esteem."

They pat Cassandra in the shoulder.

"It'll work out."

Cassandra bites her lip and nods, but even as the Inquisitor dashes ahead because "Oh look, is that a shard?", she can't shake the nerves fluttering in her chest.

 

* * *

 

 

It is with trepidation that Cassandra climbs the stairs to Vivienne's bower. This is new territory that she is venturing into, a place that has only been covered in books and daydreams.

"May I speak with you, my Lady?"

Vivienne glances over from the divan where she sits, and Cassandra holds her breath. Finally, she is granted a curt nod.

"I have some time."

Cassandra takes one halting step forward, then another, feeling like a prisoner sent to their doom, deserved though her punishment may be.

"I..." She hesitates as she stands in front of Vivienne. This doesn't feel right.

She drops to one knee, head bowed.

"I apologize for my actions at the Winter Palace. My actions were inappropriate and I ... I have come to some revelations since then."

"Oh?"

Cassandra flushes at the tone of Vivienne's voice, embarrassed at her lack of insight.

"At the time, I did not... I ..." She cannot find the words, stuttering like a child, and hates herself for it.

Vivienne tips Cassandra's chin up with a touch of her hand. "Speak. You have always been straightforward before, after all."

Those words are what she needs to bolster her courage. Cassandra takes Vivienne's hand in hers, blurts, "Is it true that you care for me?"

"Ah..." This close, Cassandra can see the faint rush of colour that rises over Vivienne's dark complexion as she says, "Yes."

Though she had had her suspicions, the simplicity of Vivienne's answer leaves Cassandra pole-axed.

"I didn't know."

"I've only been telling you in increasingly blatant terms for an age and a half, Cassandra." But Vivienne speaks softly with a curve of a smile gentling her words. "Granted, given your personality, I suppose I should simply be glad that you finally comprehend my intentions."

"I do." And Cassandra makes sure to move slowly, letting Vivienne see hers as she tips her head just so. "May I?"

"Oh, Cassandra," Vivienne laughs as she leans down to meet her. "Do you even have to ask?"

Their kiss is brief, because Cassandra has to draw back to respond, "We have already established my inability to rely on assumptions when it comes to you, Vivienne."

"True." Vivienne pulls Cassandra up to sit beside her. "But I believe we have waded through enough words now."

Instead of speaking, Cassandra captures her lips again. She is, after all, a woman of action.


End file.
